


Cooked Dwarf.

by Alonia143



Series: One-shots [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 07:44:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8241718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alonia143/pseuds/Alonia143
Summary: Thorin tries to make something for Bilbo, but it doesn’t turn out the way he wanted it to. Bilbo to the rescue! Please Read and review, Thank you.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iridescent_Thilbo_Bagginshield_7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iridescent_Thilbo_Bagginshield_7/gifts).



> Author’s Note:  
> Hello everyone!  
> I just wanted to let you all know that the recipe is a real recipe that Thorin tried to make for his husband Bilbo. It’s the Jewish Tilly's Pastelles. I wanted to use a real recipe to give it more depth to the story. I hope you guys like this. Enjoy.
> 
> The link is here:  
> h t t p : / / toriaveyDOTcom /toris-kitchen/ 2013/01/tillys-pastelles/

**Cooked Dwarf:**

 

A lot of smoke. That was what Bilbo noticed when he entered Bag-End, but his feet were already running.

 

Opening windows and trying to air out the smoke.

 

“Thorin!” He yelled out, coughing to get to his husband.

 

“In the kitchen!” he heard the gruff reply with some coughs.

 

Running to where the kitchen was, Bilbo went to the backdoor, opened it, and with more windows.

 

“People are going to talk about this,” he muttered to himself.

 

“Thorin!” he yelled again, the smoke was very thick the closer he got to the kitchen.

 

His hands roamed in the thick white pillowing smoke until he jabbed them against the coughing dwarf king.

 

Wrapping his arms around Thorin, he pushed him out the back door. Bilbo crouched down to the floor as he could easily breathe more that way.

 

He looked up and saw where the smoke was coming from. His oven.

 

Standing back onto his feet, sucking in the very little fresh air into his choking lungs, he darted over to his oven. With hot pads on his hands, he grabbed the burnt whatever it was and darted outside.

 

Both he and Thorin were standing on top of his home with everyone else of Hobbiton gathering at his front gate.

 

“Everything is fine! Go home!” He said loudly, before coughing heavily.

 

There were murmuring from the crowd as Hamfast Gamgee and Samwise walked into Bag-End.

 

“Thorin….*cough-cough* what in the world….*cough-cough* were you doing?” Bilbo asked his husband as he looked at him.

 

Thorin blushed, coughing softly as he looked at the ground.

 

Bilbo softly rubbed his back, simply waiting for him to speak.

 

“I wanted to make you some stuff like you do with me,” he said before coughing hard.

 

“Oh you big softie,” Bilbo replied, kissing him on the lips.

 

“I am not a big softie,” He huffed back, kissing Bilbo once more.

 

“Are so. Now, what was it that you were trying to make?” Bilbo asked, looking at the dish that was on the grass.

 

“I ….uh….you wouldn’t know the recipe of it,” he mumbled low.

 

“Oh? It’s dwarven? I wouldn’t mind helping you remake it,” he said, slowly getting the smoke out of his lungs.

 

Thorin nodded as Hamfast joined them on top of Bag-End.

 

“Sir, what would you like me to say to Lobelia? She’s still lingering about?” Hamfast asked them.

 

“I’ll handle her, Hamfast. You ready Thorin?” Bilbo asked him curiously.

 

“No, I’ll be up here for a bit,” Thorin told him, gently cupping his cheek and rubbing his thumb over the soft skin.

 

Bilbo blushed heavily and then walked back inside.

 

“I don’t care what you think!” he heard the shrieking sound of Lobelia.

 

“Lobelia!” Bilbo snapped at her.

 

She jerked up and sneered at him.

 

“What are _you_ doing here? Wanting to cause more trouble than before? Let alone picking on a _fauntling_ no less?” He snarled at her.

 

“You shouldn’t have this place _without any children_ in it, Bilbo Baggins!” she hissed right back.

 

“Oh? Then I guess you forgot that I have _my nephew_ ,” he calmly replied, crossing his arms.

 

She snorted in disgust “He shouldn’t have gone to you in the first place!”

 

“Lobelia, what is it that you truly want? Besides degrading yourself further and further in front of the Gamgee’s, who will tell how horrid you were to young Samwise and that no one will talk to you since you bullied a _fauntling_ no less,” Bilbo said back, still calm.

 

Lobelia’s face went from a very vibrant reddish purple to a very pale white color.

 

“You wouldn’t,” she dared him.

 

“Oh, _they_ will,” Bilbo confidently replied back.

 

“Come on along son, let’s go home,” Hamfast said, ushering his son and himself out the front door before Lobelia had time to process it.

 

“Looks like no one will talk to you after this,” Thorin then said, walking into his home once more.

 

Lobelia squeaked and then ran from Bag-End.

 

“How can you put up with her, Bilbo?” Thorin asked him curiously.

 

“Regardless of what she says, she is still family,” He replied as Frodo trotted into the kitchen.

 

“What got burnt?” he asked curiously.

 

“Well…Thorin tried to make us something, but it back fired somehow. Let’s see what went wrong and help him with it yeah?” Bilbo replied smiling at his nephew.

 

Frodo nodded and they both looked around the kitchen. Bilbo found the recipe card and hummed at it.

 

“You’re right, Thorin. I don’t know this recipe, but there is a smudge here,” he said, using his thumb fingernail slowly.

 

Thorin looked at him waiting.

 

“Oh! Thorin, did you put 1 or 2 hard boil eggs?” Bilbo asked, looking up at him.

 

“Uhg, I knew that was wrong!” he scolded himself, blushing heavily.

 

“It’s okay. I made loads mistakes of making a lot of my family recipes. My mother would just chuckle at times and then be my extra eyes. Come on, Frodo and I will be just that for you,” Bilbo said, smiling.

 

Thorin nodded, blushing harder than before.

 

Thorin had given the throne to his sister who would help teach the Heirs of Erebor. It may have taken about 3 months to run after Bilbo, explain everything to him and with his help, was accepted into Hobbiton by the Thain.

 

A couple months later, both Bilbo and Thorin got married-twice. Both in Hobbit tradition and in Dwarven tradition too. The Company showed up with Gandalf giving both vows to each wedding.

 

He’s been living here in Bag-End for nearly 15 years. It took the other hobbits to get used to him except Lobelia Sackville-Baggins who voiced her distaste to Thorin whenever chance she could get. That came to a halt when Thorin snapped at her a few years ago.

 

“Can we clean up first?” Frodo asked either of them.

 

“Yes, let’s clean up and then make it messy once more,” Bilbo teased his nephew.

 

“Ha, ha, Uncle Bilbo,” Frodo replied back, rolling his eyes playfully.

 

Thorin chuckled at this and they all got to work to cleaning the kitchen up.

 

With a fresh new start, Thorin looked over the recipe card on what he needed again before giving it to Bilbo.

 

“3 cups of water separate, 1 cup and 1 tbsp of vegetable oil separate, 1 ½ tsp of kosher salt separate, 6 cups of flour, 2 cups of finely diced up onion; had to use a large one, 2lbs of ground beef, 2 tsp of dried oregano, 1tsp of dried mint; ooh! That will be very tasty in this Thorin! 1tsp of paprika, ½tsp of ground cumin; that’s odd Thorin I’ve never heard of that spice. ¼ cup of uncooked white rice, 2 hard boil eggs, ½ cup of finely minced fresh flat-leaf parsley, and ¼ cup of sesame seeds; very odd on that one too. ¼ tsp freshly cracked black pepper, 2 egg yolks lightly beaten with 2tsp water,” Bilbo said, looking over everything.

 

Thorin waited as he got the meat cooking with the hard boil egg, parsley and sesame seeds into it after it browned up. Thorin had put the fry pan on a hot pad, letting it cool completely.

 

Bilbo and Frodo had cooked the flour on stove right next to Thorin, following the card. They walked over to the counter after it was cooled down and kneaded it out into 2 inches into little cups on the cooking tray.

 

“Thorin? Can you go and get some small firewood? I’ll keep an eye on the temp of the fire this time,” Bilbo asked of him.

 

“Sure,” Thorin said, walking out of the kitchen.

 

Bilbo leaned down and whispered low to Frodo “Can you keep him out there for nearly half an hour?”

 

“Uncle, that wouldn’t be nice,” Frodo protested.

 

“No, but it will keep him out of here. Plus I do think he needs a laugh,” Bilbo said back.

 

“Alright,” Frodo said and walked outside.

 

It gave Bilbo a smile but he then quickly got to work on doing the rest of the pies. He put the crust over the filled pies and put the try into the oven.

 

Very close to 35 minutes later, Thorin came back in, laughing deeply and loudly as Frodo trotted after him with both of their arms full of firewood.

 

“Mmm!! Uncle that smells good!” Frodo exclaimed.

 

“Tell Thorin that, Frodo,” Bilbo said to him.

 

“It smells good Uncle Thorin,” Frodo shyly told him.

 

Thorin looked at the fauntling in front of him. For the longest time, ever since Frodo had come to live with him and Bilbo after his parent’s tragic deaths, Frodo never called Thorin uncle.

 

Gently wrapping his arms around him, Thorin pulled Frodo into a hug.

 

“Thank you Frodo,” He whispered low.

 

Bilbo smiled at the two. He knew how much Thorin has worked hard on their relationship and wanted Frodo to trust him.

 

Taking out the first batch, Bilbo then put the golden pies on the cooling racks. He looked more closely and sighed heavily.

 

“You tried to cook these on here didn’t you Thorin?” he asked him.

 

“Maybe,” he said.

 

“ _The stubbornness of dwarves_ ,” Bilbo told him smiling.

 

“Ha, ha, _little bunny_ ,” Thorin replied back, he too was smiling.

 

“I thought, we _weren’t_ going to _use_ that _horrid nickname_ from Beorn,”

 

“And _I_ thought _we_ agreed, to not bring up what Gandalf kept hounding me on throughout our quest?”

 

“Mmm…I don’t think we discussed that,”

 

“Cheeky _little_ thing, aren’t you,”

 

“ _Maybe, my king_ ,” Bilbo smiled.

 

Frodo snickered at the two; he tipped toed into the kitchen and snatched one of the cooled pies.

 

That got Thorin to look at him curiously.

 

“What…what do you think of it?” he asked nervously.

 

Bilbo turned and then softly said “Frodo, here have a napkin too,”

 

He smiled shyly and said “Sorry Uncle Bilbo but these are wonderful! I bet, with the summer festival that is only a week away that these will be gone. And the talk of Hobbiton,”

 

“Really? You really think so?” Thorin asked him in awe.

 

“Thorin, you know how Frodo never lies to anyone. And if he says that, I will have my pie too,” Bilbo told him, gently taking one and eating it slowly.

 

Shifting from foot to the other, Thorin waited for the verdict.

 

“He’s right; these will fly off of the table. Why didn’t you try these before?” Bilbo softly asked him, grabbing another one as Frodo was chewing on his 5th pie.

 

“Well…I know how much you and your people love your greens. Sure, the salad gets eaten up but, I also hear the complaints from your-”

 

“Thorin, it doesn’t matter if someone doesn’t like it. Besides, I wouldn’t mind having more Dwarven style meals from now on. We can have these to ourselves and I can easily pull out something that is in the recipe box,” Bilbo cut in.

 

Thorin sighed and replied “Alright,”

 

Something dawned on Bilbo and pulled his dwarf king into his arms.

 

“Hey, don’t think I’m not forgetting you’re a dwarf or the traditions that you have. Frodo would love to learn them, just like I will,” Bilbo softly told him, gazing up into his eyes.

 

Thorin softly rested his forehead against Bilbo’s and nodded.

 

“Dwarven traditions, are of what?” Frodo asked curiously.

 

Thorin smiled as he turned to Frodo.

 

Later that evening after gorging themselves on the Dwarven pies, Thorin was telling Frodo and Bilbo, the stories that he knew by heart. Bilbo had a book out with a feather quill and ink bottle next to him; writing these stories down.

 

Glancing at the title _“Cooked Dwarf”_ he knew that it didn’t fit but, he could easily remake a book with a different title to it later. For now, Bilbo was enjoying his life with his husband and nephew; reenact a dwarven story, smiling at the two.

 

**_ FIN. _ **


End file.
